Harry Kirkland and the Triwizard Tournament
by MindAboveMadness
Summary: Adopted from Crazy as a Cheshire Cat. After being kicked out of the Dursley household by Vernon, Harry collapses in the snow, right in England's line of sight. One thing leads to another and, well, let's just say that Wizarding Britain is not ready for a savior raised by countries. (FrUk)
1. Chapter 1

**Adopted from Crazy as a Cheshire Cat. After being kicked out of the Dursley household by Vernon, Harry collapses in the snow, right in England's line of sight. One thing leads to another and, well, let's just say that Wizarding Britain is not ready for a savior raised by countries. (FrUk)**

 **Chapter 1**

A young boy shivered in the cold, barely covered in the thin rags his aunt and uncle kept him in. He stumbled through the snow, feeling the beginnings of what could only be frostbite on his bare feet. His throat was raw and numb from the cold, but he tried one last time to yell for help, but it instead came out as a mangled warble. His attempts seemed to not be in vain, however, as before he collapsed, he saw black boots and green pants before him and a worried voice asking after his well-being. The world soon went black.

 **~Hetalia!~**

Emerald green eyes slowly opened and slowly focused. The boy looked around and tried to get out of the soft bed he was in, only to fall, his legs weak. He slowly sat up and climbed back in carefully, being careful to not aggravate his injuries further. Although he was only eight, he knew what happened; he wasn't a stupid child by any means. While he was attempting to orient himself, the door slowly creaked open, and the boy found himself facing a blond man with huge eyebrows and green eyes.

The man noticed he was awake and - after putting down the tray he was holding - rushed over to the boy to check on him. After making sure there was no fever remaining, he rewrapped the boy's feet, to minimal protest. Standing, he looked at the boy, with soft eyes creased in worry.

"Hello lad, what's your name?" He asked, despite already having suspicions after seeing the lightning bolt scar. "Why were you out in such weather?"

The child looked at him - warily, the man noted - before responding in a raspy voice, "My name? I'm not sure, sir. My aunt, uncle, and cousin always call me Freak, and they're my only family. My parents are dead, they died in a car crash." He answered innocently, deciding the man would've already hurt him if he had any intentions to do as such. "I was kicked out of the house by my uncle and decided to run away. I got lost and passed out. Who're you?"

Looking slightly shocked, the man replies with a shaky tone, "My name is Arthur Kirkland. Tell me, my boy, do you believe in magic?"

"Magic, sir?" The boy asks tiredly, feeling sleep pull at him again. Arthur notices the slow, long blinks of the boy's eyes and his large yawn.

"Go to sleep lad," Arthur says, pulling the covers to the boy's shoulders and leaving the room.

 **~Hetalia!~**

When the boy wakes up again, there's a different man tending to his nearly frost-bitten feet. This man has nearly shoulder-length blond hair, blue eyes, and stubble on his chin.

"Ah, bonjour, petit enfant, are you feeling well?" The stranger asks kindly; the boy nods,

"Francis-" Arthur stops in the doorway, seeing the boy awake. "Hello Harry," he says with a smile.

"Harry?" The boy asks, tilting his head.

"Oui, the name your parents gave you was Harry," the Frenchman answers.

"While you were asleep, I managed to find out who you are," Arthur elaborates. Of course, it didn't take very long, anyone who's been in touch with the Wizarding World these past seven years knows of the famous Harry Potter and his scar.

"Sir, does that mean that you'll be taking me back to my relatives?" Harry asks in a fearful voice, something both men pick up on.

"No, you'll be staying here with Francis and me," Arthur answers as Francis gives Harry a small, sad smile. They don't tell Harry about the bruises and scars Artur found while stripping Harry of his cold, wet clothing to put him in something warmer. After a few diagnostic spells courtesy of the magical nation and some photographic evidence, it was easy for Arthur to convince his boss to make him Harry's legal guardian.

Harry's stomach rumbles loudly, but instead of looking sheepish, as most would, the boy flinches as if expecting to get punished for the noise, which he was. He curls in on himself, protecting his stomach. Francis is the first to react, kneeling down at the boy's bedside, carefully putting a hand on Harry's blanket-covered foot.

"Non, Cher, don't be afraid," he says kindly, and Arthur joins him, sitting on an empty space of the bed.

"We won't hurt you poppet," Arthur reassures the boy whose head is peeking up from his knees.

"Really?" Harry asks in a scared voice. Arthur and Francis look at each other before responding in unison.

"We promise."


	2. Chapter 2

Six figures in cloaks walk dramatically towards the castle. They can hear the noises coming from the castle before them as all of the students have already entered the school. Passing the lake, the lead figure notices the tentacle of a squid waving at them; he waves back with a smile. Eventually, the group of six reach the castle doors.

"Ve~ can we go inside now, I'm hungry!" An Italian voice pleads, breaking the silence.

"Sure, Feli," the leader answers in his British accent. With the added help of a little bit of magic, he pushes the doors open with a 'BANG' that makes several people, including Feli, jump.

Of course, once the doors slam open and the group enters, several wands are pointed at them by professors and upper year students alike. The group doesn't waver though, only lowering their hoods. Emerald green, crimson red, violet, ice blue, and two pairs of amber eyes raise to meet the eyes of the staff.

"Honestly, if this is how Hogwarts treats transfer students, my friends and I can just leave, Professor Dumbledore." The one in the lead with the British accent speaks in a bored tone, causing several snickers to come from the Slytherin table.

"I'm afraid I don't understand, my boy," Dumbledore says, face creased in confusion.

"Did you not get our transfer letters? Funny, I'm sure that my father sent one in when he decided to stop homeschooling me." The lead answers pompously with hidden mirth.

"Ja, und we sent in letters of our own," the blonde with slicked-back hair and ice-blue eyes adds.

Dumbledore's eyes widen in recognition before the old man waved for all of the wands to be put down.

"Ah yes, lads, I recall that now. You must forgive me; I'm getting old. However, if you don't mind my asking, why didn't you come in with the rest of the students?"

"I already was living in Scotland with my uncle, so he dropped me off at the border of the school's wards, my friends were staying with us." The British teen answers. "Now, where do we sit?"

Dumbledore gestured back to the woman still standing by the hat, "Come to Professor McGonagall here and let the hat sort you. If you need help, she can show you which table to go to. Now, please state your name for the rest of your classmates before you are sorted."

The boy turned to the rest of the school, green eyes glinting playfully and mouth quirked into a friendly grin, "My name is Harold Arturias Kirkland. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance!" He finished with a graceful bow, his cloak sweeping around him like wings.

And with that, he turned back to the table and sat on the stool. His face betrayed his excitement, as the hat fit onto his head. A presence popped into his mind, and didn't say anything for a while and simply observed.

 _"Why Mr. Potter, how nice of you to finally show up._ " The hat suddenly intoned rather dryly. _"And what an interesting life you've led! Why, meeting all of these different countries, learning their languages, and everything else you've learnt…I'm not sure where to put you."_

Harry considered what the hat admitted for a second. _"Gryffindor won't be where I belong, they are too judgmental. Ravenclaws tend to be smarter-than-thou and insufferable. Other than them, it doesn't really matter to me."_

 _"You are very cunning, but not overly ambitious. You are also very loyal to your family, am I right?_ " The hat pondered for a bit before declaring: _"Your future will be brightest here, so it has to be SLYTHERIN!"_

Harry removed the hat and went over to the politely clapping table, sitting slightly on the end so as to avoid interacting. Despite his efforts, a blond boy struts over and sits across from him, extending his hand. "Draco Malfoy, heir to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Malfoy. You seem to be of a good breed, but I don't recognize your family name."

Harry considered him for a second, 'This must be the house of power plays then.' He resolves before grasping his hand firmly to leave a good impression.

"Harold Arturias Kirkland, Heir of Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Kirkland, Heir of Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Bonnefoy." He stated, pleased to watch Malfoy's eyes widen at his title.

"The Kirkland house had withdrawn from the British magical community some odd centuries ago and melded with the Bonnefoy House of France. Thus, being the heir, I'm in line for both titles."

And with that, the food appeared on the table, so Harry politely ended the conversation, instead, he turned to watch his friends get sorted. Matthew Williams, the blond Canadian with violet eyes and an odd, stray curl was sorted into Slytherin, choosing to sit next to Harry.

The duo sat in silence while the crimson-eyed German - sorry, Prussian - albino known as Gilbert Beilshmidt was sorted into Slytherin as well, sitting on the other side of Harry. Next to be sorted was the German Ludwig Beilshmidt with the slicked-back blond hair and ice blue eyes, who went to Ravenclaw. Feliciano Vargas was sorted next, the Italian with amber eyes, auburn hair, and an odd curl going to Hufflepuff with teary eyes. His similar-looking brother and fellow Italian Lovino Vargas was sorted into Hufflepuff as well, making Feliciano's tears dissolve into sniffles.

"What a crybaby," Malfoy remarks with a haughty smirk.

"Watch it, Malfoy," Gilbert warns before Harry can. "He's our friend, and we will hex you into next week if you call him that again." Malfoy raises an eyebrow at the threat, trying to hide his shocked expression.

"And why would I listen to you?" He challenges.

"I'm Gilbert Beilshmidt, Heir of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Beilshmidt, my family line traces all the way back to the Teutonic Knights, and my bruder and I have more influence in Germany than you and your father could ever hope to have."

"Feliciano is our friend," Harry picks up. "You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us."

"Plus," the semi-visible Canadian speaks up from Harry's other side, surprising Draco. "Feliciano's the heir of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Vargas, and his brother Lovino is the head of the Italian Mafia. You wouldn't want to cross them."

"The Italian what?" Two voices ask, one confused and one shocked and a little afraid. The second voice is that of Blaise Zabini.

"Kesesese," Gilbert laughs at the fearful look on the normally composed Slytherin's face. "You heard them." And with that, the three transfers turn to their meals, not talking to any of the other Slytherins, but holding their own conversation in what some recognize as French.

 **That concludes the two chapters prewritten by Crazy as a Cheshire Cat. All chapters after this are purely my own.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Harry, Gilbert, and Matthew were shown to the fourth year dorms where they would be sleeping in the same room as a fellow named Theodore Nott. Harry's trunk was at the end of the bed closest to the door, with Matthew's next to his and Gilbert's next to Matthew's. The only other bed in the room was Theodore's.

"Mattie," Harry says, gaining the Canadian's attention. "We should write to Dad and Papa."

"They did say that they wanted to hear from us," Matthew agrees. Harry pulls out some parchment and a quill and sits next to Matthew as they begin their letter to Francis and Arthur.

"'Dad and Papa'?" Theodore questions Gilbert.

"Harry and Matthew are half-brothers. Francis is their papa, and Arthur is Harry's dad." Gilbert explains, thinking that Nott is asking about Harry and Matthew having different last names.

"They have two dads?" Theodore asks incredulously.

"Do you have a problem with that?" Harry asks defensively, looking up from his letter with a glare learned from Russia.

"N-no," Theodore stutters, turning away. Harry and Matthew go back to finishing their letter as Gilbert let's Gilbird out of his cage.

"Gil, can we use him to send our letter to Papa?" Matthew asks, rolling up the letter and tying it with twine.

 **~Hetalia!~**

The next morning at breakfast, three howlers arrive, bright red in a sea of dull browns and whites. Two land in front of Gilbert, Matthew, and Harry, and one in front of Feliciano and Lovino. Ludwig, the lucky bastard, gets a regular letter.

Matthew opens his right away, with a muttered groan of: "Alfred..."

"HEY MATTIE! ARTHUR TOLD ME YOU AND HARRY ARE OFF AT SOME CRACKPOT WIZARD SCHOOL!" The American's voice fills the room as Matthew puts his head into his hands and Harry and Gilbert laugh. "IF YOU TOTALLY NEED SAVING, THE HERO WILL RESCUE YOU!"

There's some conflict in the background before another voice speaks-err shouts. "HERMANO, PAPI TOLD US THAT YOU'LL BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS!" A female voice with a Hispanic accent shouts. "IF YOU GET FUCKED UP, I'LL BEAT WHOEVER'S ASS NEEDS BEATING FOR YOU!"

"Maria," Matthew groans at his - sometimes overly - protective sister.

"HEJ MATTEUS!" The hyperactive Danish voice is next to come from the red letter. "N-LUKKAS TOLD US THAT YOU'RE AT ALISTAIR'S MAGIC SCHOOL! LUKKAS AND EMIL WON'T SAY IT, BUT THEY'LL MISS YOU _TOO KAMMERAT_!" With that, the letter ends, leaving a red-faced Matthew.

"My turn~" Harry says, opening his.

"OI! WARN A BROTHER BEFORE DISAPPEARING TO SOMEONE'S MAGIC SCHOOL!" Jett's Australian accent fills the hall.

"It's not his fault you forgot!" Arthur's voice is heard in the background. "Congratulations on making Slytherin boys!"

"DON'T FORGET TO WRITE!" Several voices shout as the letter combusts.

"Lucky," Matthew mutters as Feli begins to freak out at his smoking envelope. "You only got Jett and the others." The others Matthew is referring to are some of his fellow commonwealth nations and siblings.

"Open it, idiota!" Lovino shouts, grabbing the letter and opening it himself.

"LOVI~" a Spanish voice coos.

"NOPE!" Lovino shouts, grabbing and tearing the floating letter. From the two halves, a regular letter falls out. After reading the top, Lovino hands the letter to Feliciano.

"When will Antonio learn?" Harry asks to no one in particular as chatter slowly begins to return to to silent hall.

"Never, probably," Gilbert says, stuffing sausages in his mouth. "These aren't even any good!" He whines, continuing to eat them.

Matthew, however, is having a silent conversation with Lovino, an unusually possessive aura about the Canadian. Professor Snape comes around to their end of the table, handing them their class schedules. After a quick scan, Harry notices that they have double potions with the Gryffindors first. Then he and Matthew have Ancient Runes with Ludwig and the rest of Ravenclaw, and after lunch the two of them and Gilbert have charms with the Hufflepuffs, including Feliciano and Lovino.

"Antonio is going to get his ass beat with a hockey stick," Harry decides before starting on his own breakfast.

"Brüder," Ludwig approaches Gilbert. "This seems to be for the both of us. From our brothers, sister, and Eliza."

"Have a seat, Luddy," Gilbert suggests, motioning to the empty are beside him for his brother to sit.

Ludwig complies and the two countries read the letter from the rest of the Germanics and Hungary together. Not long after, Feliciano makes his way over to sit by Ludwig, Lovino not far behind his brother. The Southern Italian goes to sit next to Matthew, making Harry move over to give his friend some room.

Feliciano begins rambling about the letter from Elizabeta and Roderich to Ludwig, and Lovino grouches to Matthew about Antonio trying to send him a Howler.

"When will that idiota bastard take a hint? I'm not interested." Matthew puts an arm around Lovino, pulling the Italian close to him.

"You might have to spell it out for him amour," Matthew suggests.

"Or you can beat him with your hockey stick." Lovino counters, his tone jokingly hopeful.

"Ve~ remember that time Miss H-Elizabeta beat him with her frying pan after we found you in that closet?" Feliciano remembers.

"What closet?" Matthew asks, turning to his boyfriend.

"You had a closet too?" Harry asks at the same time. The countries turn give him concerned looks as Harry ducks his head in embarrassment.

"Don't be embarrassed," Gilbert speaks up. "It's not your fault, it's those verdammt Dursleys." Harry doesn't show much of a reaction to the reassurance, so Lovino tells his tale.

"Back when he was my boss-" he went on to explain how he had gotten locked in a closet before one of Spain's overseas journeys. Eventually Veneziano, Hungary, and Austria had found him while visiting Spain. Long story short, Spain was covered in bruises and Romano spent the next month with Hungary and Austria before Spain took him back.

"Toni can be a bit of an airhead," Prussia comments at the end, insinuating that Spain had probably done it by accident.

Lovino shrugs carelessly. "It was centuries ago." The comment gets some odd stares from nearby Slytherins, who notice that there are two Hufflepuffs and a Ravenclaw at their table.

"What the hell are they doing here?" The already annoying voice of Draco Malfoy is heard from behind Harry, Lovino, and Matthew. "Hufflepuffs and a Ravenclaw at the Slytherin table? Go back to your own kind." Ludwig frowns at the comment, as does Harry.

"Piss off Malfoy," Gilbert says, glaring at the other blond.

"And why should I? They have their own tables that they have to sit at."

"Actually," Harry speaks up. "There's no rule against students from other houses sitting at different house tables, with the exception of celebratory feasts."

"Our first class starts in ten minutes. Feliciano, Lovino, let's go." Ludwig changes the subject before a fight can occur, standing after checking his watch.

"We should get going too eh," Matthew suggests, standing with Lovino. Gilbert and Harry follow his example, and the six friends leave the Great Hall together.

 **A/N: Updates will start to slow (as if they weren't slow enough already) as school starts in a week. That, plus the fact that I need to gather my focus this this story and plan out the plot line more means that an update may not pop up for a little while. I may not be able to update this until I finish either Lamination or Cultural Politics. Just know that I won't abondon this story.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"How was Herbology?" Harry asks Ludwig as the German sits next to him in the Ancient Runes classroom. Matthew is sitting on Harry's other side, looking irritated.

"Fine. Feliciano was almost attacked by a venomous plant, that was concerning." Germany replies, a small frown on his face.

"Is he alright?" Matthew asks, concerned for his friend.

"Yes, he's fine now. He and Lovino have Care of Magical Creatures now. Are you alright, you seemed upset." Ludwig asks, changing the topic.

"Snape," Harry and Matthew respond together.

"He's a biased jerk against the Gryffindors, and Gil has detention with him because he was 'disruptive'." Harry uses finger quotes around the last word. "One of the other student's potions was made incorrectly and melted their cauldron. Gilbert shouted a warning to nearby students when the toxic potion spread."

"It just so happened that the nearby group was all Gryffindors. Snape said that Gilbert's warning was unnecessary and the potion wouldn't reach them, Gilbert argued with him and then Snape gave him detention for unnecessary interruptions." Matthew finishes the explanation. Ludwig makes a face, but before he can respond, the professor begins the class.

 **~Hetalia!~**

"Off to lunch then," Harry says as the class is dismissed. Ludwig and Matthew nod silently, and together the trio gathers their things and leaves for the Great Hall.

The moment they step inside, Gilbert and Feliciano flag the three down to the Hufflepuff table where they and Lovino are already sitting. The two Slytherins and the Ravenclaw join their friends.

"How was Divination?" Matthew asks, sitting next to Lovino.

"The teacher's batshit crazy!" Gilbert laughs his signature hissing laugh. "She said that I 'would die in the land of snow after taking the blow for my brother's fall.' Been there, done that!" Again, his hissing laugh was heard.

"Sí!" Feliciano agrees. "She said that fratello and I would be separated and reunite in a time of great need, but we've already done that!"

"It's a waste of time," Lovino grumbles. "Stupid English jerk better have a good reason for this."

Harry rolls his eyes good-naturedly at his friend. "Dad wanted us to investigate the school. He's heard that it's declining and that it might have something to do with Dumbledore. There was also that Deatheater attack at the Quidditch World Cup this summer, so Dad wants us to scope out undercover Deatheaters within Hogwarts.

Harry made sure his voice was low enough that only the countries could hear him while also using a wand less privacy spell Arthur taught him. The others nod and the group of six continues to eat their lunch before being dismissed to their next class.

 **~Hetalia!~**

The days and weeks passed quickly as Lovino, Matthew, Feliciano, Ludwig, Harry and Gilbert acclimated to life at Hogwarts. Most of the professors and courses were just fine, nothing was particularly unusual for a magic school.

Nothing other than the, Harry, Ludwig, and Lovino think that there there's something off about Mad-Eye Moody, that is. That was likely because he had introduced the class to Unforgivables on their first day.

But, other than Mad-Eye Moody, everything at Hogwarts was as it shout be.

Until the eve of October 29. The day Albus Dumbledore re-announced the Triwizard Tournament. The day before the foreign schools of Beaubaxtons and Durmstrang were to arrive at Hogwarts.

The next morning, all six "transfer students" received the same letter.

" _The Frenchie and Lukas will be coming with their magic schools. Arthur and Vlad may stop too. Good luck._

 _See you lads soon. - Alastair Kirkland"_

"Schiße," Ludwig mutters, making Gilbert laugh and Lovino snort. Matthew and Harry smile, but both are panicking on the inside.

Both of their fathers are going to be here.

And Alastair.

Schiße indeed.

 **(A/N: I found this half-finished in my drafts, finished it, and now its here! i actually forgot about this fic for a couple months because I lost the drafts, accientally buried them beneath a bunch of other documents.)**


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